Villains
by red157
Summary: My take on what will happen in Volume Three: Villains. Sylar is back, Heroes are dying and that's when things get difficult... Please R&R and enjoy!


**Authors note – I do not own any of the names/ characters represented in this story; they do however belong to NBC and/or Tim Kring, who's probably a nice guy.**

**After the pretty damn fantastic first season, I'm sure most of you were completely satisfied with the second Heroes saga. Me, and quite a few others weren't so pleased, however. Now this is picking up exactly where the second volume finished and is thus the start of 'Villains'. **

**Chapter One – Seven Days Later…**

Sunlight fell onto the church, one of the largest and most extravagant in all of New Orleans, giving it an almost celestial glow. The family of Niki Sanders didn't want a large funeral, they couldn't afford one for starters, but all expense was taken care of by the company she briefly worked for. Niki's family, friends and others she'd touched in her life watched with expressions of grief and solemn sadness as the coffin was lowered into the ground. His cousin Monica's arms holding him tight, Micah Sanders silently said his final goodbyes to another parent as the Priest's words turned to mere static in his ears.

With the funeral over, those unable to attend the wake offered their condolences to Micah and his family. The first of these were two men, both of whom Monica recognised; she had also noticed they stood quite apart for much of the service.

"I'm tremendously sorry, Niki was a wonderful woman and if there's anything you need at this time, don't hesitate to ask." Bob's words brought a gracious smile to Micah's grandmother's face. The other man merely gave a slight nod, barely able to maintain eye contact with any of the family, before they both moved on.

"That man's been so kind-" Micah suddenly interrupted his grandmother and broke what had been days of painful silence.

"Mohinder!" At the call of his name Mohinder Suresh froze, eventually turning to look at Micah with a clearly aggrieved expression. Bob watched the scene keenly, the near-sweltering sun glinting off his glasses lenses. "Mum told me she had a virus and that you had a cure. So thanks for all you did for her. She would have wanted me to say that."

Mohinder took in his words, almost seeing some resemblance of himself in Micah.

"The pain will go soon." He spoke from experience, having dealt with death more often than most. "Then only the memories are left."

Without another word, Mohinder left them with their grief and walked with Bob through the graveyard. It was literally too hot for the suits they both wore, and it seemed to be really bothering the head of Company operations, who resorted to dabbing his brow every few seconds with a hanky.

"I'm glad you've finally decided to speak with me, Mohinder." Bob had a tone to his voice that he rarely used to use; now it's his default setting. First there was Adam's break out, then the virus, then multiple threats of going public and that's when things got difficult. "It's a shame you've felt the need to go into hiding, it wasn't so long ago you were prepared to kill for our cause."

"Well I was under the impression Sylar was no longer a threat. If it wasn't for your daughter, he'd have killed me, Molly and Maya, just like he did her brother." The memory of the incident was still at the front of Mohinder's mind; seeing that murderers face again, watching him shoot Maya without a seconds hesitation… This shouldn't be part of his life.

"And that will forever be on my conscience, but I have no time to dwell on past misjudgements. I want you to bring Miss Herrera to us straight away, her power is a danger and I don't know what you think hiding her will accomplish." Even though Bob was obviously serious, his words drew a sarcastic laugh from Mohinder as the two continued to stroll through the tombstones.

"It will stop you using her as a weapon against Sylar, and we're safe, for now. Elle told Matt about the break-in at Hartsdale, tell me, how many files did Sylar steal? How many lives have been put in danger thanks to your negligence?" The pair reached the main road, where a black vehicle was waiting for Bob, its engine immediately revving into life. He continued to sweat, though stress was becoming a large factor. _The Company wasn't created so things could end up like this, _Bob thought to himself as he opened the car door.

"We're doing all we can to locate and capture Sylar without further loss of life, though I'd like to remind you he isn't the only problem that has arisen recently." He lowered himself into the blissfully cool vehicle and breathed in the smell that only comes with a new leather interior. Mohinder grabbed the door as Bob attempted to close it, almost wrenching it clean off. A rage had grabbed him, made from anger at all the mistakes, lies and needless deaths this man had caused.

"You didn't have to shoot Nathan Petrelli." Continuously resisting the urge to punch him square in the face, Mohinder merely forced a reply by keeping Bob from leaving.

"It wasn't my decision to make, though I supported it one hundred percent. You can understand that, can't you? Please reconsider bringing us Maya… goodbye Mohinder." The tight grasp on the door was relinquished and Bob closed it, the car accelerating off less than a second after. Slightly stunned, Mohinder watched it shrink into the distance before the shining black speck vanished around a building.

* * *

Night had fallen over New York and through the open blinds the light of a hundred buildings entered the room, one of many at the private clinic where Nathan Petrelli was a patient. The former congressman had fallen into comatose; having suffered multiple gunshot wounds to the chest. From that second, his brother Peter never left his side, asleep now in a seat beside him. He remained close because partly, he felt he owed Nathan, though he also wanted to protect him, deeming the armed guard outside the room not enough. A car horn honked loudly from the street below, the noise travelling upwards, eventually waking Peter from his slumber. Getting over the sudden shock, he relaxed back in his seat, eyes drifting over to check up on Nathan.

"Seeing you like this has become too familiar." He near whispered, a thought spoken aloud considering his brother was the only other person present. With a yawn and a quick scratch of his unshaven chin, Peter rested his head and tried to get a few more hours sleep.

* * *

A blue SUV powers down a main road in Baltimore, the driver a panicked and confused father. The passengers are his wife and seventeen year old son, David, both in similar states of distress. Cars beep and drivers shout as the vehicle manoeuvres past, breaking the speed limit by a considerable amount.

"Slow down Bill!" His wife screamed beside at him, as one particular close-call smashed off their left wing mirror. "You're going to get us all killed!"

"I'm getting David to the hospital, as quick as I can, before he gets worse. You okay back there son?" Bill tilted his rear view mirror to check how the huddled, tear-soaked teen he called his boy was doing. "First he goes missing for days, and then he comes back cursed, with those marks... Just hang in there!"

David had begun to howl with fear as his hand seemed to change before his eyes, becoming blurred and almost transparent. He watched in horror as it worsened, his whole right arm somehow impossibly made out of liquid. It was the same shape, and moved near enough the same, but David was convinced it was water. His mother noticed this and released a suitably piercing scream, causing Bill to turn and see his sons' metamorphosis. The sight proved such a distraction; it took him a while to notice the car had slowed to a halt, without him even lifting his foot of the accelerator. It was only when David looked to see his parents' reaction that he saw why the car had stopped, his arm returning to normal as he realised they were floating.

"Dear God, what's happening now?" David's mother went for the door, though it somehow locked itself just before her hand reached the handle. The same invisible force took hold of David and pulled him violently from the back seat, past his parents and straight through the windscreen, coating everyone in glass. He coughed and spluttered on the road, too dazed to notice his parents' vehicle floating behind him or the other cars speeding past. He wasn't even aware of the man standing over him, one hand raised, as if he was the one controlling the levitating SUV. A sudden tightness fell around David's neck, as if he was wearing a jumper many sizes too small, at the same time he was lifted into the air, so he was facing his attacker.

"Who are you?" David uttered to the man, who was wearing a cap that cast a shadow over much of his face, though his smile of accomplishment was plain to see. The attacker dropped one arm and his parents' vehicle fell back down to earth, the crash echoing along the road. His hand technically 'free', he pointed his index finger at David's forehead and began to move slowly to the left. Blood began drip down David's face as an incision appeared, growing despite nothing visibly cutting into his skin. He emitted screams as his parents watched in anguish, still unable to leave their car. In a split second everything changed, however, David's body (Clothes and all) changing exactly as it had before then collapsing into a wave of water. Stunned, the attacker just watched as the moving liquid, which was once a human being, slid down a drain and vanished.

"Where'd he go?" Bill asked aloud, unsure whether to be pleased he'd escaped the attacker or terrified that his son might be no more. Those words attracted the attention of the super powered being before them, who with one casual swipe of his hand pushed their vehicle in front of an oncoming 18 wheeler. The car exploded in a fireball as the truck skidded to a halt, the only remnants of what had occurred.


End file.
